No Place Like Home
by LadyWallace
Summary: 13x7 AU: When Jack, cold and hungry, is approached by someone telling him the Winchesters are in trouble, he can only think of helping his friends. However, these people have ulterior motives, and it's soon apparent that Jack is the one in need of rescue.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, we're back with another S13 fic! A while back WhiteWolfPrincess95 requested a story with kidnapped Jack but I didn't get around to writing it until now. She also helped me brainstorm this one, so thanks again, I hope you enjoy this ^_^**

 **This is essentially an AU of ep 13x7 "War of the Worlds" so there will be some dialogue taken from that.**

No Place Like Home

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

Jack stood on the side of the street, arms hugged close to his chest as he watched the rain drizzling from under the store awning where he was standing, trying to stay as dry as possible. He was cold, only having the clothes on his back, and hungry, not having found anything to eat since yesterday. He also hurt, somewhere deep inside his chest, though he was unsure of why; as far as he could tell it wasn't a physical wound. He didn't know why he felt so heavy. He also couldn't explain why the one image that kept coming back to him was his small room back at the Winchester's bunker. He may not sleep much, but oh, how he would love to sleep in a real bed again when he was exhausted.

He was angry, he realized. Angry about his powers. He was so scared of hurting someone, and yet, he hadn't done so since that security guard, he hadn't really used his powers at all since he ran away except to teleport when he needed to get away fast. That was something he could do. But for as powerful as he was, he couldn't make himself less hungry, or less cold. His powers never did anything useful, they were only good for hurting people. Jack wondered what would happen if he never used them again.

He had tried to open a portal to the other world again, but he couldn't figure out how he had done it the first time. He had tried researching like Sam taught him to, but again came up with nothing. None of the libraries he had gone to had the extensive collection of books like the bunker did. But he wanted to bring Sam and Dean's mother back to them since he would never see his own again. He remembered Mary Winchester briefly from when he had been born. She had seemed nice. He wondered if maybe she could be a mother to him as well.

But he would never know if he couldn't even get her out of there. Not even do the one good thing he might be able to use his powers for. Jack's shoulders slumped and he moved from under the awning, hunching his shoulders against the rain and began walking down the sidewalk.

He realized all he really wanted was to go home.

Maybe he would.

It took him a moment to notice that a black vehicle was following his path, driving slowly down the road. He tensed, but he couldn't fly away, not while people were watching. The Winchesters had told him it wouldn't be a good idea for people to see what he could do.

However, the vehicle pulled to a stop a few yards down the road from him and a man got out of the passenger seat. He was tall, but not as tall as Sam or Dean, with dark hair, and he was dressed in a suit, like the ones the Winchesters wore when they pretended to be FBI.

He smiled as he came forward. "Are you Jack Kline?" he asked.

Jack frowned. This man wasn't a demon, or an angel, he could tell that much—Castiel had taught him how he could sense the auras of angels and demons. This man was just a human. So…he probably wasn't a danger. At least he probably wasn't from Asmodeus.

"Yes," Jack replied slowly, still cautious.

"I'm glad we found you," the man said. His voice had a strange accent that Jack hadn't heard except on movies like _Lord of the Rings_. "I'm a friend of Sam and Dean Winchester, we've been looking for you."

"Why?" Jack asked, though he knew why. Knew that the Winchesters and Castiel wouldn't leave him out here and probably would have recruited help. He was actually surprised they hadn't found him before this.

"Sam and Dean are in trouble," the man explained, though didn't really look worried. "They need your help."

Jack's brow furrowed. "They're in trouble?" he asked. "Are they okay?"

The man shrugged. "We don't know, they've gone missing. But they could really use your help on this. I'm sure your powers will come in handy."

Jack bristled slightly at that. As usual, it was just his powers that people saw when they looked at him. But…if Sam and Dean were in trouble, he had to help them. They were his family.

"Okay," he said.

The man smiled and reached out to settle a hand on Jack's shoulder, pulling him toward the back of the vehicle. "Thank you, Jack. You look cold."

"I am," Jack replied in defeat.

"Probably hungry too," the man added.

Jack just nodded, looking down at his feet, splashing in the puddles on the road.

The man clapped him on the shoulder and reached out to open the double doors on the back of the vehicle. "Don't worry, we'll get you taken care of soon enough." He opened the door and pushed Jack inside.

Jack climbed into the dark vehicle and blinked to adjust his sight. He had only a moment to register that there were at least four more men in the back before the door closed and they made a lunge at him. Jack jerked back, but something that felt like lightning slammed into his side below his ribs and he fell to the ground, spasming. Before he could recover, hands were on him, forcing cold metal bands around his wrists and ankles. He tried to struggle, but the men just forced him down harder.

Angry, Jack felt his powers start to build. He growled, and he felt his eyes flick to gold. He knew he could kill everyone in here if he wanted to.

"Subdue him, dammit!" a voice yelled and Jack felt a pinch in his neck.

A cold wave washed over him, forcing his powers down instantly. He tried to yell, but only a whimper escaped his throat. He struggled weakly, but could barely move.

The bodies started to pile off of him, but even then all he could do was lie there, limp, on the floor of the vehicle.

They started moving, and one of the men who had taken him down, kicked him in the side.

"You better stay down if you know what's good for you, nephillim," he said. He also had the same accent as the man who had approached Jack on the street. "We have ways of dealing with your kind."

Jack didn't say anything. He couldn't. Another strong shockwave tore through him, and he realized one of the men was holding something with a button on it that was obviously doing this to him. He turned to glare at the man and was rewarded by another shock that was so powerful Jack felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

He tried one last attempt to struggle out of his cuffs, but by then he was completely gone, unable to do anything as darkness took him over.

* * *

 _Arthur Ketch stepped out of the van_ and buttoned up his suit coat, stepping over to the rear of the vehicle to watch his hired help lift the Winchesters' nephillim out of the back. The boy was limp, obviously having been rendered unconscious. Ketch was pleased to see that the amped up angel gear had worked on a nephillim after all. He'd been a little worried, but it seemed that this creature was not all powerful as they had thought.

He strode toward the door of the makeshift facility. It was not nearly as big as the other one they had occupied, the one that Sam Winchester and his group of filthy hunters had blown up, but a secondary research outpost, where they put the boffins to do their research. Thankfully, they had escaped the Winchester reign of terror and had decided to stay to conclude their research before they packed up and went back to dear old Blighty.

Ketch might not have ever truly liked the stuck up little boffins, but at the moment, they were willing to pay anyone dearly for the capture of the nephillim that was the spawn of Lucifer himself. And Ketch needed the cash, now he was on the outs with the Men of Letters.

And no, this wasn't a plea to take him back, he was actually rather happy with his newfound independence, but it would be enough for them to stay off his back and not tell the Old Men back in England that he was, indeed, still alive. Especially if he continued to bring them fine specimens like the nephillim.

Dr. Karen Mayfield met him as he came in, and her perpetual scowl told of how little she enjoyed seeing him.

"Ketch," she murmured.

Ketch gave her a charming grin and nodded to the men behind him. "Karen, I found what you were looking for."

Her eyes lit up slightly at that, and she nodded to the men. "Bring it in."

Ketch motioned the men forward, and they brought the nephillim into the facility. Dr. Mayfield led them to another room, and as she opened the door with the palm scanner, there Ketch heard some growls and whimpers from the small prison's other occupants.

Ketch glanced around with a brow raised. "I see you've been busy. Got anything new for me to try out?"

"Not for you," she said firmly. "At least not yet." She opened a door to a small, unfurnished cell and the men dropped the nephillim unceremoniously onto the ground before they backed away.

Dr. Mayfield knelt and produced something from her lab coat, which she fixed around the nephillim's neck.

Ketch watched curiously. "Are you sure that will hold him?"

Mayfield stood back up. "We're not sure of anything, but you obviously managed to subdue him with what you had, and this is a built in shock-collar." She pulled a small button from her pocket to show him. "It emits an electromagnetic pulse that we've found to be effective even on angels."

"Well, I certainly look forward to seeing what you come up with next," Ketch said. "Let me know if you decide to do anything exciting."

"I assure you, you'll be the last to know," she said blandly and pushed Ketch out of the room before locking the door tight. "Now please, my team and I have prep to do. I don't need the likes of you hanging around."

Ketch's eye twitched, but he did as she asked, motioning to his men to follow him. "And the payment?"

"Ask Jones, he handles the finances," she said, already walking away.

Yes, Ketch hated the research teams.

But no matter, he had a big paycheck coming his way, and now he could start to think of his next big target.

After all, it was probably only a matter of time before the Winchesters and their pet angel showed up for the newest member of their little cabal.

* * *

 _Jack woke on a hard surface,_ his body aching. He pried his eyes open and tried to sit up but his arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. Upon further inspection, he realized his wrists and ankles had been chained together, just like they had been before, when the men had put him into that big, dark vehicle.

Jack couldn't remember what had happened after that, when they had hurt him with the rod that felt like it had lightning in it, but he could see he was no longer in the vehicle.

He seemed to instead be in a small concrete room with a heavy metal door that only had a small barred window near the top of it. Jack tried to reach for his powers to break the chains around his wrists, but they only seemed to start burning, and he finally gave up as the pain seared into his skin. He then turned to struggle into a sitting position and after long last managed at least that, and sat slumped against the wall of the cell, panting.

Again, he tried to reach for his powers, wondering if he could blow the door down, but the searing pain started around the cuffs on his wrists. He also realized there was something heavy and hard locked around his throat that burned and began to cut off his air the more he reached for his powers. So he stopped, and instead began to take stock of his surroundings.

"Is someone out there?" he called. "Please! I don't belong here!"

He didn't even know where 'here' was, though he was pretty sure this wasn't a good place to be. He was also pretty sure now that Sam and Dean were not in trouble at all, and that the man in the suit had only told him that so that he could capture him. Jack wondered why though. Why would a human want him? He could understand if it were demons or even angels, but just a human? Maybe he was a hunter. He did know Jack's name and obviously knew Sam and Dean. Maybe he was an enemy of them and he wanted to use Jack as bait.

That made Jack angry. He wasn't going to let himself be used as bait so someone could hurt his friends. He had to find a way to get out of there.

Before he could try anything else, he heard footsteps outside his room, coming closer, and then there was a beeping sound, and the door to the cell popped open, revealing two men in white coats.

Jack shuffled as far away from them as possible, his back bumping against the wall. He felt scared and vulnerable without the use of his powers in this strange place.

"Please, I don't belong here," he tried. "There must have been some mistake. I just want to go home to my friends."

They acted like they hadn't heard him at all, simply stepping into the room and each taking one of his arms. They hauled him upright and then dragged him since his feet were still chained together and he couldn't walk. Jack struggled, trying to wriggle from their grasp, but one of the men growled and reached for something at his belt. Jack suddenly felt a shocking pain rip through him, coming from the collar around his throat. He cried out, his body falling limp without warning. He found he couldn't move at all and nearly panicked.

However, by the time the men took him through another door they had to open with their hand, his body was beginning to tingle, and the feeling was starting to come back. He twitched, thinking that he might be able to make a run for it if they took these manacles off of him.

They dragged him through the door and stopped, hands still clamped firmly around his arms. Jack craned his neck to look around the room. He didn't like what he saw. There was a lot of strange machinery that sort of reminded him of what was in the war room back at the bunker. A lot of buttons and screens that probably showed something important. Of course, this equipment worked, while they never used the stuff at the bunker.

That didn't particularly alarm him, but there were other items in the room too, like a large steel table that looked like the ones Jack had seen in a morgue Sam had taken him to on one of their hunts. That, he did not like the looks of.

A woman, dressed in the same white coat as the men came over, her heels clicking on the floor.

"Where do you want the specimen, Doctor?" one of the men who held Jack asked.

She nodded to the table, and Jack felt something twist in his stomach. Wait, 'specimen'? Were they talking about him?

"Please, you don't have to do this," he started to say as they dragged him the rest of the way over to the table. "I don't belong here. My name is Jack Kline. Please let me go."

They didn't pay any attention to him, however, and the men simply lifted him up and he found himself lying on his back on the cold, hard table.

Several more people wearing white coats converged and began attaching him to the table and no amount of pleading on Jack's part stopped anything. They didn't seem to be paying attention to him at all, just rattling off instructions to each other that Jack didn't truly understand.

The one thing he did realize though was that this wasn't about torture as he had initially thought. No, they didn't want any information out of him, not the kind he could tell them with words, anyway. They seemed, instead, to think of him as a science experiment. Dean had once said that he couldn't use his powers in front of humans unless he wanted to get dragged off to a place called 'Area 51' where government scientists would experiment on him. Maybe that's what this was. But he hadn't done anything to raise alarms, not that he could remember.

And yet here he was, completely helpless, and at the mercy of humans. The one time he would have liked to have his powers at his disposal and he couldn't even use them.

It seemed that he really wasn't good for anything at all. He hurt people he didn't mean to, and he couldn't even save himself.

Perhaps it was better he was here after all. At least he wouldn't have to worry about accidently hurting someone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay guys on to chapter two! Lets see what Cas and the Winchesters are up to.**

 **Thanks to my Guest reviewer as well, I'm glad you enjoyed chapter one :)**

Chapter Two

The first day that the scientists had him, it wasn't exactly as bad as Jack anticipated, but of course, that was all relative. No, they hadn't cut him open or anything, but they hadn't been kind either. First they'd gagged him so that he would stop talking, then they'd proceeded to take most of his clothes, until he was left nearly naked and shivering on the table, feeling even more vulnerable than before.

Then they had continued with unwanted examinations, and they took a multitude of samples from him and ran tests, and then injected stuff into him with needles that made him feel dizzy and sick to his stomach.

It was hours before they finished with him and had him taken back to his room. They didn't bother with the cuffs this time. He was drugged enough that he couldn't have put up a fight if he'd wanted to. He still didn't know how they had managed to subdue his powers so completely. Perhaps it had something to do with the collar around his neck.

He was almost grateful when they took him back to his cell. At least then there would be no more unfamiliar hands covered in rubber gloves touching him. Once the men left, he immediately slumped down in the corner of the room, wrapping his arms around his knees and curling into himself. They hadn't given him his clothes back so he was only dressed in his thin boxer shorts, which did nothing to help stave the cold off.

A painful lump started building in Jack's throat and he thought it was the collar he was wearing, until he felt tears sliding down his face and realized he was crying. He hadn't meant to start, but his body seemed to think this was the only way to deal with his situation, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cry.

He just wanted to be home with the Winchesters and Castiel. He wished he had never run away in the first place, saw how obviously stupid it was. After all, he _couldn't_ even use his powers right now if he wanted to. And, no, it probably wasn't permanent, but still. He knew he could do better to learn how to use his powers so he wouldn't be a danger to his friends. He just wanted to be home in the bunker where it was safe, and warm, and there was food, and people that cared about him. Even Dean had started being nicer and more supportive of him after he had warmed up to Jack and gotten to know him better.

Jack sat alone in the dark cell, his shoulders shaking as his sobs echoed in the tight space, wondering if he would ever see his family again.

* * *

 _Castiel slumped at the table_ in the bunker's library, running a weary hand over his face. It had been nearly two weeks now and they still hadn't found Jack or any trace of him.

Sam was on his laptop, searching as always for any report that might give them some clue toward a wayward nephillim, but so far he hadn't been able to come up with anything either.

Dean came into the room with hot cups of coffee and placed one in front of Sam. He raised his eyebrows at Castiel but the angel shook his head. It wouldn't help him find Jack.

"Anything?" Dean asked half-heartedly as he sat across the table from Sam.

The younger brother sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Nothing. But I've put out an APB to all the hunters we know. Jody said she'd get the word out to a few other cops she can trust, but…Jack's off the grid. He doesn't want to be found and I don't think he will be if that's the case."

"The kid was pretty spun-out," Dean said sympathetically. "We'll find him. I mean, there's got to be a sign at some point, right?"

"Right," Sam said quietly.

"Kid can cause a tsunami with a hiccup," Dean added, taking a drink of his coffee.

"I don't know, maybe he's covering his tracks," Sam said, and turned to Castiel. "I mean, he's hiding himself from you too, right?"

"Yes," Castiel replied grimly. "Or, this apparent dearth of evidence is, in fact, the evidence."

"The evidence of…?" Sam asked.

"Of some horrific misadventure that has befallen him," Castiel said, finally voicing his true fears to his friends. He'd been willing to try it their way at first because he didn't truly believe Jack to be that hard to find, or that, alternatively, he would make his own way back eventually. But…now that it was two—going on three—weeks that Jack had been missing without _any_ sign of him, good or bad, Castiel was starting to wonder if someone else hadn't found him first. "We have to consider the possibility that he could have been dragged down to Hell by Asmodeus, or, possibly even worse, hijacked to Heaven by angels."

"Yeah, but isn't he too fast and furious for angels?" Dean asked.

"Maybe, maybe not," Castiel said and stood up, searching through his coat pockets for his keys. "That's what I'm going to find out." He'd had enough of sitting around, and as much as he really didn't want to do this, he had to know whether the angels had Jack or not. That, at least he could figure out. They may have lost all their contacts in Hell when Crowley died, but there were still a few angels Castiel could call upon in Heaven. At least, he hoped so.

"Find out from whom? From the angels?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yes."

Sam and Dean shared a look, and Dean finally stood up. "Alright, then, let's go."

Castiel hesitated. "Dean, I don't think it's a good idea you and Sam come. My contact, I don't think she would agree to meet with a stranger."

"Introduce me, then I won't be a stranger," Dean said simply. "I'll bring a six-pack."

"Dean," Castiel shook his head. "I swore to protect this boy. Let me do this."

"And if this meeting goes sideways?" Dean demanded. "Then where will that leave Jack? Think about it, Cas. If they _do_ have him, what are the chances that they're gonna let you walk if you come asking for him? And how well do you really trust this contact of yours anyway?"

"This is not your problem," Castiel growled, hands clenching.

Sam stood up as well. "Of course it is, Cas, Jack is our family, and so are you. We care about both of you. None of us can afford to go off and do something dangerous on our own right now, we're all we have."

Castiel sighed, but he felt his walls lowering. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he would be grateful if the Winchesters accompanied him. He did not wish to go back to Heaven, even if he knew he wouldn't have to go past the gate. And Dean was right, if the angels _did_ have Jack, then it would be unlikely they would simply hand him over.

"Alright, fine," he caved. "But you have to stay in the car when I go to meet with my contact."

Dean shrugged. "No problem. We'll just be there for backup." He grabbed his coat and they all headed off to the garage and piled into the Impala.

The drive to the playground seemed to take forever, though that may have been just because Castiel was anxious to get this over with. He was also tense with anticipation to know whether Jack _was_ a prisoner of Heaven of not. Because if he was…Castiel had no idea what they were doing or already had done to the boy. Knowing from experience the cruelty some of the angels could exhibit, made him sick to his stomach thinking of Jack being at their mercy. And worse, they thought of the boy as an abomination. Castiel had been there when the angels had planned to kill Kelly and her unborn child—even though now he couldn't even fathom how he had ever wished to do that. He knew their hatred of nephillims, and, yes, once he had agreed with them, but after meeting Jack, and seeing the true goodness the boy possessed…well, it wasn't the first time Castiel had gained a new perspective.

"Here we are." Dean startled him out of his thoughts as the hunter drove up toward the playground.

"Park back here," Castiel told him anxiously.

He saw Dean roll his eyes in the rearview mirror, but he did as Castiel asked all the same, turning the engine off. Castiel got out of the car, and glanced around, but saw no angels waiting anywhere.

"Just call if you need any help," Sam told him with an encouraging smile.

"And don't do anything stupid," Dean added wryly.

Castiel gave a longsuffering sigh, and closed the door, striding off across the park toward the sandbox.

He stopped beside it, and glanced around again, but still saw no other angels.

"Duma?" he called cautiously.

It was a few seconds before the sigil in the sandbox started to glow and a brunet angel appeared, stepping out of the sandbox.

"Castiel," she said in greeting, and he couldn't read anything on her face that said she was either pleased or displeased that he was here.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me," he said sincerely. "This is a matter of great urgency. It is imperative that I locate Jack."

"You mean the nephillim?" she asked.

"Yes." Castiel hesitated and then asked, "Do the angels have him?"

He held his breath, waiting for the answer, and watching Duma's face but she simply shook her head. "No."

Castiel didn't allow himself to feel relief though. He wasn't exactly on good terms with Heaven, even his old friends. "You're sure he's not sitting in Metatron's old cell, or—"

But Duma only continued shaking her head. "If we had him, he wouldn't be imprisoned, he would be put to work."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, an uneasy feeling surging through him.

"Castiel, the angels…our numbers were greatly diminished after the fall. No one's made new angels since the dawn of creation. We're going extinct." Castiel frowned. He hadn't realized it was that bad. "You would need a powerful force to make more of us."

"You mean Jack," he said cautiously. He shook his head slightly. "Even if he had that power, what makes you think he would cooperate?"

"He may not have a choice," Duma said firmly.

Anger and alarm bells started to go off in Castiel's head. "So you're planning to enslave him for some kind of experiment?"

"Castiel, he's not your pet, he belongs to all of us," Duma said as if he were a child.

Castiel gave her a disgusted look. "No, he's _not_ a pet, and he belongs to himself. I swore to his mother that I would protect him and if that includes from Heaven then I will do that too. I'm certainly not going to let you kidnap him and _breed_ him like some animal!"

Duma pressed her lips together tightly. "I should have known you wouldn't understand. After all, if was your fault that there are so few of us left."

That statement struck Castiel to the heart, but he stood firm. Yes, it _was_ his fault. Which was why he would not let Jack pay for his sins. He shook his head, anger roiling inside of him. "I should have known it was a mistake to come here."

"Yes," Duma said almost resignedly. "It was."

Castiel glanced behind her then as the gate began to glow again and two more angels stepped out of the sandbox. Castiel stepped back.

"You did well, Duma," one of the angels said, glancing almost smugly at Castiel. "You delivered him as promised." She turned to Castiel then. "We hear you have influence with the nephillim. He'll listen to you. When we finally do apprehend him, and, with you in our arsenal we will, you will help us get him to cooperate."

"No," Castiel said firmly. "I will not help you."

"Ever the renegade," the angel said blandly.

Duma stepped toward him, a pleading look on her face. "Castiel, please. Come with us." She had the gall to reach out to take his hand.

That only made Castiel angrier and he shoved her backwards, his blade sliding instinctively into his hand.

The other angels drew theirs as well, and soon the flash of celestial steel glinted in the sunlight.

Dean had been right, this had been a terrible idea to come.

* * *

 _Dean sighed and crossed his arms_ over his chest as he leaned against the side of the Impala. Sam stood next to him, flipping through stuff on his phone. Dean glanced over toward where the playground was, but couldn't see it through the trees.

"You think the angels really have Jack?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I guess it's possible. I don't want to think Cas is right about Jack's radio silence, but at this point…I don't know, Dean. I'm worried about him. I mean, he's still part human. He has to eat and sleep sometimes, and he doesn't have any money, or anything. And he's still so innocent, I'm just…"

"I know," Dean agreed. "I'm worried about the kid too."

Sam rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I mean, what if something really bad did happen to him? What if Asmodeus caught him? I don't even want to know what he had planned for Jack."

"Yeah, me either. But Cas doesn't seem to think he would be any better off with the God Squad." Dean glanced over toward where the angel had disappeared again. "I hope he's not either place. It would be a bitch to spring him."

Sam didn't reply, obviously lost in his own thoughts and Dean was about to check his own phone for texts, when he heard the familiar sound of steel on steel. He stood up straighter and elbowed Sam in the ribs.

"Hear that?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sam said grimly, instantly alert. "Sounds like Cas needs help."

Dean was already opening the trunk of the car, fishing around until he found two angel blades. He passed one to Sam and they wasted no more time sprinting toward the playground.

They got there just in time. Cas was facing off with three angels and though he was holding his own, his struggle was obvious.

"Hey!" Dean shouted and two of the angels turned toward him and Sam.

"Winchesters," one snarled in distaste and strode forward, her blade held at the ready.

Dean went in swinging, catching the angel's blade with his own, and dodging a swipe before he got a punch in. The angel staggered back slightly, surprised, but simply flung a hand up.

Dean felt himself slammed into the ground with an invisible force, Sam collapsing next to him a second later. He tried to push himself upright, watching his brother struggle as well, but it was no good.

The angel Dean had been fighting crouched over him, blade held threateningly to his throat.

"I would surrender if I were you, Castiel," she said coldly. "Unless you want to see your precious human pets dead."

Cas had stopped fighting the third angel and stood, panting, with a look of worried anger on his face. "Don't," he warned.

"Then surrender and come with us," the angel demanded coldly in a way that made Dean realize they wanted him for anything but a pleasant chat.

"Cas, don't even think about it," he growled before the angel pricked his throat with the tip of her blade, causing blood to drip down the side of his neck. Cas surged forward a step but was stopped at the point of his opponent's blade.

"What's it going to be, Castiel?" Dean's captor asked. "You, or your friend's lives?"

"Oh, please. You already know what he's going to answer. Always the same thing. Boring."

Everyone turned at the sound of the new voice. Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he heard Sam give a barely audible gasp as they saw the figure who walked toward the standoff.

"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "You can't be here."

Lucifer—because it was _frickin' Lucifer—_ smiled and raised a hand. "Hey. Sorry to disappoint but…it's me." He shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Did you guys miss me?"

The angels guarding Sam and Dean stood, obviously finding Lucifer more of a threat.

"What are you doing here?" Dean's captor demanded. "We thought you were dead."

"Yeah, not so much, just taking a vacation," Lucifer said. "But I'm back now, and I would love to have a chat with everyone's favorite heroes here, so unless you want to join in I suggest you run off back to Heaven."

The angel who had been fighting Castiel stepped forward. "We need them."

"Well, so do I," Lucifer said. "And I'm not afraid to take them from your cold, dead fingers, so, unless you want to make this into one of those make-my-day moments…" He rolled his shoulders and his eyes glowed red.

The angels didn't wait to see what would happen next. They fled to the portal and disappeared into a flurry of light.

The mojo holding Sam and Dean lifted and they surged to their feet, angel blades held at the ready.

Lucifer blinked and his eyes stopped glowing. He seemed to stagger slightly, taking a step back.

"You," Castiel snarled and stated forward, blade held at the ready.

Dean surged toward him and grabbed his arm, hauling him back almost violently. "Cas, Cas, no, don't," he nearly pleaded, horror choking him still at the still-too-new memories of Lucifer stabbing Cas in the back.

"Dean, he's weak," Cas protested.

"That's right, Cassie, don't want to get a blade to the heart again do you?" Lucifer asked, coughing slightly and thumping his chest. "And yeah, getting here might have taken a little out of me, but I can still kick all three of your asses. Lucky for you, though, I'd rather talk."

"About what?" Sam demanded sharply.

Lucifer furrowed his brow in mock offence. "Geez, Sam, after everything we've been through, you talk to me like that? And you wonder why you can't keep a girlfriend."

Sam seethed next to Dean, but Lucifer continued without prompting. "I'm looking for my son, obviously. I figure if anyone knows where he is, it's gonna be you three."

"Your son?" Cas asked, taking another step forward. "And what makes you think your son wants anything to do with you?"

Dean gripped his friend's shoulder again as Lucifer's face turned cold.

"What did you do with him?" Lucifer asked icily. "I bet you turned him against me, didn't you?"

"Actually, no," Sam spoke up. "Jack just happened to take after his mom. He's not a monster—like you."

Lucifer chuckled. "Jack, is it? Well, tell me this, has Jack hurt anyone yet?"

Dean swallowed hard, unable to help glancing at the others. None of them said anything, which, unfortunately, was answer enough for Lucifer.

"That's what I thought," the fallen archangel said, a slow, satisfied smile spreading over his face. "Bet the kid's a real bruiser. Chip off the old block."

"It's not like that," Cas cut in angrily. "Jack is learning to control his powers still. It's a difficult process."

"Exactly why he needs his father—his true father—at his side, to teach him," Lucifer said, stalking toward them. "Come on, guys. I at least deserve to see my son, don't you think? Now where is he?"

"We're not telling you," Dean growled.

"Oh, well, alternatively…" Lucifer said and reached out so quickly they couldn't react and grabbed Sam around the throat. "You _will_ tell me, or I play a little game where I see how many pieces I can carve off Sammy before he bleeds out. Remember that one, Sam? It's been a while since we played that."

"You let him go, you son of a bitch," Dean snarled.

"Or what?" Lucifer demanded. "You know your threats are empty until baby bro is safe. What are you really gonna—agh!"

Sam had managed to stab his blade into Lucifer' thigh and wriggled free. Unfortunately, it didn't so much cause the fallen archangel damage as it did just seriously piss him off.

"Alright, I guess I'm done playing nice," he growled and lunged forward, slamming a foot into Sam's hip, bringing him down to his knee before he kicked him in the jaw.

Dean lunged forward and slashed Lucifer across the upper arm with his own blade, but a fist in the stomach and Lucifer's leg sweeping his out from under him sent him crashing to the ground, all the breath driven from his body. In the back of his mind, he realized Sam hadn't gotten up yet and hoped he was just unconscious. Cas was now grappling with Lucifer, angelic steel flashing in the light as Dean fought to recover.

"You know, I could use a little boost," Lucifer said as he and Cas disengaged their blades. "Loan me a little grace, brother?"

Cas scoffed in disgust. "If you even think…"

Lucifer had gripped his sword wrist and was in the process of twisting it, pulling Cas close to him. The angel winced, but kept a grip on his blade. But it was only a matter of time, and Lucifer's own blade was only inches from his throat.

"Just a little taste, Castiel."

Dean was on his feet and threw himself at Lucifer, taking him to the ground, and breaking his hold on Cas. The victory was short lived because Lucifer almost instantly rolled Dean underneath of him, straddling his waist and slamming his fist into Dean's face repeatedly.

"Where's my boy, Dean?" he demanded with each punch. The blows were heavy, rattling Dean's head. He could taste blood in his mouth, running down the back of his throat from his nose, and threatening to choke him. He tried to fend the archangel off, but Lucifer batted his hands away effortlessly. He gripped Dean around the throat then and began to slam his head against the ground to emphasize each word. "Where. Is. My. Son?!"

A burst of light nearly blinded Dean and he brought an arm up to shield his eyes. He felt Lucifer's grip leave his throat and his weight was gone and he heaved in a huge breath, gasping and choking.

Someone rolled him onto his side and he spit several gobs of blood onto the ground, reaching up with a wince to feel his nose, with felt broken, but was only really bloody on further inspection.

"Dean?" Cas' concerned voice came close by.

"M'good," he muttered, and began to push himself up, clutching his throat and concentrating on breathing. Cas helped him sit, and he grunted, his head pounding; one eye was already swelling shut. Son of a bitch. He glanced around. "S'mmy?"

"He's unconscious, but he's all right," Cas assured him and even as Dean found Sam with his eyes, his younger brother was stirring.

"Where's Lucifer?" Dean demanded then, looking around the rest of the area.

Cas held up a bloody hand. "I banished him. Because he's weak, it might take him a little longer to come back than usual, but we need to get out of here. The angels might be back too."

Dean didn't argue. He let Cas help him to his feet, and then staggered over to Sam as Cas hurried to help him up as well. His brother was dazed, but, besides a huge bruise on his jaw, he seemed fine.

They hurried as fast as they could back to the Impala.

"What the hell did the angels want, Cas?" Dean demanded as they all slid into the car.

"They wanted to use me as leverage to get Jack to…help them."

"Help them with what?" Sam asked, wincing as he prodded a tooth.

Cas shook his head slowly. "Help them…make more angels."

Dean's eyes widened—or, the one that wasn't swollen shut did anyway. "He can do that?"

Cas shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, but I'm certainly not going to let them…experiment on him to find out."

"But they don't have him?" Sam asked anxiously.

"No," Cas replied, slumping back against the seat. "And I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried that something worse could have happened to him."

"Worse than being a angel breeding machine?" Dean demanded, then sheepishly backtracked as he saw the horrified looks on Sam and Cas' faces. "Sorry, you know what I mean."

"All I know is that if Lucifer is back and looking for him, we need to find him fast," Cas said.

"Well, I second that," Dean said as he turned the key in the ignition. "I highly doubt Lucifer has fatherly intentions toward the kid."

Sam shook his head, glancing out the window as if half expecting to see the fallen archangel there. "I just can't believe he's back. How did he get out? And mom…"

"Sammy," Dean said quietly, but not unkindly. "Once we get Jack back, we'll concentrate on finding someway to get Mom back. But right now we've got a scared kid out there, and a custody battle from hell waiting to happen, so we can't worry about that right now. You know Mom would want us to find the kid."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said softly.

"Then I guess we're back to square one," Cas sighed.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "So let's not waste any more time."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Without being able to see outside, and having no way to tell time, Jack had no way of knowing how long he had been captured by the scientists. All the days blended into one long nightmare anyway, as his life literally just consisted of painful tests and experiments, and the tiny cell where they didn't torture him, but the cold and his hunger did. They apparently hadn't bothered to think that just because he was half angel didn't mean he didn't need food sometimes. It didn't mean he didn't feel the cold. Sometimes they would give him water, but that was it; every day the hunger gnawed more and more on his stomach. He could feel his grace, even locked down, supporting his body, but with all the torments he endured, it did little.

He did finally realize that these people were from the British Men of Letters. He had heard Sam and Dean mention them before, and knew they were bad. That they had tried to kill his mother before he was born. He hated them, and sometimes he wished he could use his powers on them, but…they were still people and he had vowed never to hurt people again.

One day his cell was opened and he was dragged to a different room than usual. This one didn't have the cold metal table and all the machines and instruments of torture, and he was almost glad of that, if he didn't believe something worse was possibly coming.

"What do you think we should start with?" one of the scientists asked. They were setting up what Jack decided must be cameras around the room.

"Get the vampires, we'll start with them," the other one, the woman, Dr. Mayfield, said. She was the one who always gave orders, always watching and writing notes, but rarely touching Jack herself.

Vampires? Jack frowned. What did they have planned?

He was surprised when one of the men who had brought him here took out a key and unlocked his collar. He instantly reached up to rub his throat, feeling the bruises that had occurred from all the struggling he had done. They finally began to fade as his grace filled his body again sluggishly. He could feel his powers returning to him and with a thought, he whipped around to face his captors, but they had already sealed him into the room.

Jack hurried over to reach for the door, but something shocked him when he touched it and he jumped back.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, though knew how futile it was. They always seemed to pretend they couldn't hear him.

He spun around as he heard a sound on the other side of the room and saw a passage opening before two men stumbled out—well, mostly they were men, but Jack could sense something else.

"Vampires," he said.

One sneered with a hiss, fangs growing in his mouth. "That's right, boy, and what are you? You smell like an angel, but…not quite."

"Nephillim," the other spoke, his own fangs appearing.

Jack shook his head, stepping back. "I am a nephillim, but I don't mean you any harm. I'm just a prisoner here."

"Do you know how long it's been since they fed us?" the first vampire snarled.

"Weeks," the other bit out.

"So you might be half angel, but you're half human too, and that's good enough for us right now."

"Please, we're all hungry, I know they probably hurt you too," Jack said, seeing several healing wounds on the vampires' bare arms. "I don't want to have to hurt you. That's what they want me to do, but I…I don't like using my powers like that!"

The vampire chuckled. "Good, that just makes this easier on all of us then."

To Jack's dismay, they lunged forward. He dodged to one side, but they came at him again. One reached out and grabbed his shoulder, and the other kicked his feet from under him, but Jack tore free and scrambled away until his back hit a wall.

The vampires were on him in a second, pressing in close, and holding him down. Jack struggled, but weakened as he was, he was no match for hungry vampires.

"Keep struggling, I like it when my food fights back," one chuckled and then lunged forward.

Jack let out a short scream of pain as fangs sank into his neck. The other vampire who was holding him down grabbed his arm and had fixed his sharp teeth around Jack's wrist. He could feel the blood and, more worryingly, his grace, flowing from his body and he panicked, struggling against the monsters' hold. But that only seemed to cause their teeth to tear his flesh more.

Until something rose inside of him, bubbling up in his chest, and he screamed, pushing out with both his body and mind.

The vampires flew away from him, hanging in the air for several seconds as Jack's power poured over them, long enough for him to see the stunned, and horrified looks on their faces, and then they slammed into opposite sides of the room, falling to the ground limp and lifeless.

Jack, breathing heavily, staggered to his feet, clasping a hand against the wound on his neck. It was healing now, but it had hurt, and blood was still crusted against his shoulder even after the wound closed.

He looked around, then stumbled back to the door he had come in from. He raised a hand to pound on it and remembered at the last second that it had zapped him before.

"Hey! Let me out!" he demanded to whoever was listening. When he got no reply, he glanced up into the big eye of one of the cameras. "Please let me out!"

He heard the grating of a door opening and turned hopefully, but only saw more people come in, ragged and desperate. These men smelled like human and dog. Werewolves.

Jack braced himself for the coming fight as they eyed him with instant hatred, and worse, hunger. He didn't know how long this was going to go on, but he already wished it would stop.

It seemed he would never be allowed to stop hurting people.

* * *

 _Jack huddled in the corner_ of his cell that night, covered in dry blood and healing wounds. They had replaced his collar as soon as they had finished with him and it kept him from healing completely. He still had half-healed claw marks down his back from a werewolf.

He had killed all of the monsters they put in there with him. Not by choice, but because he had been unable to defend himself any other way and…well, instinct had set in. Maybe killer instinct was the better term.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his drawn up knees at the memory. The desperate, pain-fueled actions that had caused him to kill those creatures who were in no better position than he was. They too were just captives, tormented by these cruel humans. They didn't deserve to die. Yes, he knew Sam and Dean killed many monsters while hunting, monsters who hurt people and yes these vampires and werewolves probably had too, but that didn't give him leave to just make that decision. It made him sick to his stomach. He could still feel their lives leaving them, their necks snapping at the force of his powers.

He hated the Men of Letters for doing this to him. It was almost worse than the experiments they did on him.

He heaved a shuddering breath and sniffed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest as if to somehow conserve as much heat as possible.

"Castiel," he whispered, wondering if by some miracle the angel, his surrogate father, could hear him. "Castiel where are you? I just want to go home."

The longer he stayed in this place though, the more it seemed like that wouldn't be happening at all.

* * *

 _Ketch watched the videos_ that Dr. Mayfield showed him of their tests with the nephillim's powers. He arched an eyebrow.

"My, it does have some raw power, doesn't he?" he commented.

"Yes," she replied. "We've been trying to figure out a way to extract it and utilize it for weaponry. The similar experiments we did with angel grace didn't work out so well, but a nephillim's powers are different. This one shows a similar, but not identical energy signature. We have high hopes that this will turn out better for us."

"Well, I certainly look forward to seeing what you come up with," Ketch said.

"I'll bet," the woman replied blandly and spun around in her chair. "Why are you even still here?"

"What, I can't stop by?" Ketch asked.

"You don't even work for the organization any more," she said.

"Well, if you must know, I was invited by one of your scouts who found something he thought I might be interested in."

She snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "That doesn't concern me. I only deal with what is brought in for me to run tests on. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more work to do."

"Karen," Ketch tried to wheedle, but she snorted and pushed past him.

"Don't even bother trying that with me. I'm not an idiot like Lady Bevel was."

Ketch put on an injured pout, and watched her leave. As soon as she was out of sight, he returned to the office and sat down at the computer. He pulled up an algorithm that they used to track supernatural creatures and searched for what he was looking for.

After several minutes of discarding what was of no use to him, he found exactly what he was looking for.

"Ah, there you are," he murmured to himself. "As I suspected."

He hacked into traffic cams in the area of the anomaly he had caught on his radar and found the right date and time.

A grin spread over his face as he paused the video and zoomed in on the picture. He printed it out and stood, tucking it into his coat as he closed out the program as if he had never been there.

"The new boss will be most pleased," he smiled to himself. "I may even get a raise."

He tucked his hands in his pockets and strode out of the facility, off to find his new quarry.

* * *

 _After the debacle at the gate of Heaven_ , the Winchesters and Cas went back to the bunker to regroup. They were shaken that Lucifer was back, but his reappearance only made them more determined to find Jack.

"We can't let Lucifer find him first," Cas said firmly, rubbing his head as they sat in the war room once they were back home, recuperating from the beating they had taken.

"That ain't gonna happen on our watch," Dean said firmly. "Lucifer's not getting anywhere near that kid."

"No," Sam replied, a far-away look in his eyes. "Although…I wonder if Lucifer can find him? If we track Lucifer..."

"No," Cas shook his head. "Jack has somehow managed to ward himself. If he hadn't I would have been able to find him already. Lucifer won't have any better luck tracking him than I would."

"Well, that's some good news at least," Dean muttered. "Lucifer can't find Jack if he doesn't want to be found, but neither can we."

"Unless something else is keeping us from finding Jack," Cas sighed and lowered his forehead into one hand. "I just…I need to know if he's okay."

"I know, Cas, I do too," Sam said softly, reaching out to grip Cas' shoulder. "We'll find him."

It seemed like the only mantra they had anymore, and Dean was beginning to wonder if they ever actually _would_ find the kid.

But several days later, after more fruitless searching, Sam got an email from Jody.

"Guys!" he called from the library as Dean was pouring his first cup of coffee. He wandered into the room finding Cas and Sam there, looking at Sam's computer screen.

"What is it?" Dean asked, sipping the hot drink in a desperate attempt to wake up.

"Jody sent this footage she found," Sam said. "One of the people she sent the APB out to saw this and sent it to her."

Dean leaned over the back of Sam's chair and squinted at the screen. It was from a traffic cam or something, showing a street view of a strip mall.

A large black van rolled into sight, stopping on the side of the road, and then a figure appeared walking down the sidewalk. Dean's eyes widened.

"That's Jack," he said.

"Watch," Sam urged, his jaw tight.

Dean couldn't help but watch as the passenger door of the van opened and a man in a suit climbed out and…

"Son of a bitch." Dean was completely awake now, coffee forgotten. "How is that….?"

Sam shook his head, and they watched up until the point where Jack was pushed into the back of the van and the man who should have been dead climbed back into the cab and drove off.

"When was this?"

"Almost two weeks ago," Sam said sickly.

"How the hell is this possible?" Dean demanded.

"Dean, there's gotta be an explanation."

"Yeah, that's freakin' _Arthur Ketch!_ " Dean cried. "I think I'd recognize the guy who almost killed me. Twice."

"But I thought you said your mother shot him in the head?" Cas asked.

"She did! Sam and I dumped the body ourselves. I knew we should have salt and burned that bastard." He swung around.

"Well, somehow he's alive," Sam said. "Not exactly the biggest surprise in our line of work. What we need to figure out is why he took Jack and where."

"We got rid of the Brits," Dean said. "You said you took out everyone in that facility."

"Well, yeah, but we had no way of knowing if everyone was there at the time," Sam said with a helpless shrug. "There may have been more people out in the field, or even other locations we didn't know about."

"Either way, if this is the Men of Letters, it is not a good thing that they have Jack," Cas said firmly. "They'll either use him for a weapon or they'll…dissect him or something to see what he's made of." He started pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was so worried that the angels or Asmodeus had him that I didn't even consider another alternative that could be just as bad. Or worse."

"But Jack's powerful, it would take a lot for humans to actually do anything to him, wouldn't it?" Dean tried to reassure him.

"And the Brits know things we don't," Sam said grimly. "They have tools and people dedicated to studying ways to hunt the supernatural. For all we know they could easily have something that can subdue a nephillim."

"We have to find him now," Cas said firmly.

"Agreed," Dean said and leaned back over the computer. "Sam, see if you can track that license plate. If we can find the van, then we might be able to find the people involved. At least a driver we can pump for info."

Sam's fingers were already flying over the keyboard. "Already on it."

"Good," Dean said and stared at the paused video again, focusing on Ketch's face; black and white, grainy, but obviously him. "Next time I see that son of a bitch, I'm going to put several bullets between his eyes and burn him for good measure."

"Not if I do it first," Cas said darkly.

Dean was worried about what state they would find the kid in too, but at least they had a lead now, and that was more than they'd had before. Now they just needed to find him before his evil dad did.

Or before the Brits decided to make him their next science experiment.

* * *

 _Ketch watched his target_ follow a man into an alleyway, and tailed him at a decent distance. Ketch watched as he drew a blade and slit the man's throat, breathing in the shimmering light that poured from the man's open wound.

Once the dead body slumped to the ground, Ketch cleared his throat. "Well, this is rather unexpected. A bit low on power, are you?"

His target spun around, eyes flashing red. Ketch stood his ground, unperturbed.

"And who are you?"

"Arthur Ketch," the Brit replied. "And you are Lucifer."

The devil narrowed his eyes, but they stopped glowing. "And you know me how?"

"That's of no consequence," Ketch told him, shrugging his shoulders and clasping his hands in front of him. "The important thing is that I'm the one who knows where your son is."

The devil smiled. "Well, in that case, do tell."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Castiel looked out the window as Dean pulled the Impala off the main road. They had followed the lead with the license plate on the van Ketch had used to kidnap Jack, and they were heading to pay a visit to the driver. Castiel wasn't sure if this would do any good, but they had been able to track Sam down in a similar way when he had been kidnapped by the Men of Letters so maybe it would work here too. At least give them another lead that might get them closer.

Every time he thought about Jack in the hands of those glorified torturers he saw red. They barely treated their own people like humans, so how could they be expected to show mercy to any supernatural creature. All those special weapons they used had to come from somewhere through a lot of trial and error—trial and error that had likely started with experimentation.

"It's right here," Sam said and Dean turned into the apartment complex. It was old and looked less than inviting, but Castiel glanced further down the parking lot and saw the black van.

"Aaron Conway," Sam said, glancing at the paper he had taken notes on. "Looks like he's on the second floor."

"Let's go," Dean said and slipped his gun into the back of his belt as they strode forward into the apartment complex.

Castiel followed them up the stairs and to the man's apartment.

Dean knocked on the door. "Aaron Conway?" he called.

It was a few seconds before the door opened cautiously, revealed half of a man's face, before his eye widened. "You!"

Dean didn't give him a chance to reply, he simply shoved through, and grabbed the man by the front of his jacket. "Yeah, us," he replied blandly, pushing the man over to a chair and shoving him into it as Sam and Castiel pulled their weapons to make sure he stayed there. "Now, listen, Aaron, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard, painful and messy way."

"But we don't really have time for that, so it would be best if you just talked," Castiel added. Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

The man snarled, looking at all three of them but stayed where he was, his hands held out in front of him. "What do you want? I told Ketch I didn't want in on any of his mess. I'm just someone he hires to do jobs sometimes."

"Jobs," Dean repeated blandly. "Like kidnapping?"

Aaron scoffed. "No! I'm a hunter, like you! We only go after monsters."

"And this boy," Sam said, pulling his phone out and showing a picture of Jack to the man. "Ketch didn't hire you to kidnap him?"

The man shook his head slowly. "Yeah, he needed the van, so I offered to drive, but, you guys have obviously got this all wrong. That _thing_ is not some kid, that's the spawn of Satan!"

Castiel shoved past Dean and Sam to grab the man by the collar, pushing him back so that his chair ended up teetering on two legs. "That _boy_ is called Jack, and he never did anything to hurt anyone!" Not on purpose anyway, but the man didn't need to know that.

"Maybe not yet," the man scoffed. "That's why we're trying to prevent these things from happening. Like you should be."

Castiel raised a fist, but Dean was hauling him back.

"Cas! Cas, stop," Dean said as he pulled him away from the man and Conway's chair settled back onto the floor with a thump.

Castiel seethed and shook Dean's grip off, but didn't put his fist into the man's face like he wanted to. He supposed it wasn't really Aaron Conway's fault for thinking this way after all. Ketch had probably poisoned him and all the men into thinking Jack was the new devil. And hunters weren't exactly known for their open-mindedness when it came to the supernatural. Castiel should know.

"Just tell us where you took the kid," Dean demanded.

Aaron shook his head. "Look, I just did the driving, and we stopped at another place where Ketch and a couple of the other hunters switched vehicles and went to wherever those Brits have their facility."

"And you have no idea where that is?" Sam asked.

Aaron shook his head. "I've never been there. They keep it secret—probably because of what you guys did to their last base." Sam furrowed his brow, looking almost insulted. Conway snorted. "Ketch sometimes calls me to help haul cargo, or…sometimes I call him when I am able to capture something alive."

Castiel frowned, glancing at the Winchesters but Sam was the first to speak. "Why? What do they want monsters for?"

Aaron gave a snort. "That's way above my pay grade, man. Best guess, experiments, vivisection, weapons testing—you know all those fun toys they have. But it's not my problem. I just do my job and reap the benefits. I'm sure you fellas know this job doesn't exactly pay well. You'd do the same if you'd been given the opportunity and you know it."

"No, we wouldn't, Aaron," Dean snapped, a disgusted look on his face. "Yeah, hunting might be a crapshoot, but you save people, that's your reward. You don't sell innocent kids to a bunch of sadistic dickbags!"

Castiel felt nausea clench his stomach into knots. They needed to find Jack now.

Aaron gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Wow, you guys are more delusional that I thought you were. I'd heard you were the ones who let the mother go to begin with instead of curing the problem before it got out of hand. Although, I guess it worked out okay after all. I bet they're finding all kinds of uses for Satan Jr. now."

"You son of a bitch," Castiel ground out, stepping back toward the chair and striking the man across the jaw. The blow threw him from the chair to sprawl on the floor. Castiel reached down the haul him back up but Sam cut in.

"Wait," he called, stepping between Castiel and Aaron. The man was scrambling to his feet, obviously looking for a weapon but Dean blocked his path.

"Sam, I can get the information out of him," Castiel growled. He could too. He could get anything out of Conway's head he wanted. It wouldn't be pretty, but at this point, speed was more important to Castiel than his scruples.

"Cas, you heard him, I don't think he has the info we need," Sam said.

"Unless he's lying," Dean cut in.

"Either way, Ketch is who we really want, right?" Sam asked and Castiel and Dean nodded though a bit reluctantly.

"Yeah, I want to get my hands on that bastard again," Dean growled. "I'd love to get a chance to fight him when I'm not drugged up."

"Okay then," Sam turned to Conway. "Call him. Tell him you have a new acquisition for him."

The man glanced between all of them. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"At this point, man, what do you have to lose?"

Aaron sighed. "Fine." He went to grab his phone off the table and dialed a number. It was a long minute before he looked irritated and sort of desperate. "It's going to voicemail."

"Try again," Sam commanded. "Put it on speaker."

Conway gave a longsuffering look, but turned the phone to speaker. This time it picked up.

"I'm busy right now, call back later," came Ketch's familiar voice over the line. Castiel could almost see Dean's hackles rise.

"Sorry, just wanted to let you know I got another one for you. Vampire."

"Well, I can't pick it up until tomorrow," Ketch said.

Conway glanced at Dean who shook his head.

"It-it's causing problems. Ran out of dead man's blood. I want to get it out of here as soon as possible."

"Then kill it, or wait until tomorrow," Ketch replied firmly. "I'll text you a time and location for the meeting then." The call ended.

"Dammit," Dean muttered.

Sam exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll just have to wait until tomorrow I guess."

"And in the meantime?" Castiel asked, a helpless restlessness assaulting him.

"In the meantime, we hang out here," Dean said, walking over to a table and grabbing a roll of duct tape before nodding to Sam who grabbed Conway's shoulder and shoved him back down into the chair. "Get comfy, Aaron, It's gonna be a long night."

* * *

 _Arthur Ketch approached the compound_ with the Devil. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at it.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind," he said, seeming unimpressed.

"Well, it's the only place we have now after the Winchesters and their wayward hunter friends blew up our main base of operations," Ketch replied blandly.

Lucifer chuckled. "They can be quite annoying, can't they?"

Ketch made a sound in the back of his throat in acknowledgement. Frankly he didn't really want anything to do with the Winchesters anymore. He was willing to leave them be as long as they didn't bother him. Partly why he was going to make himself scarce pretty damn quick. He was sure it would only be a matter of time before they showed up for their nephillim and blew this facility up too. He was very glad he had found new employment.

"Well, where's my son?" Lucifer asked, the cool demand clear in his voice.

Ketch smiled. "Right this way."

Lucifer followed him to the door and Ketch called in. A second later, the door popped open and he nodded to Lucifer.

The Devil, however only smiled. "After you."

Ketch gave a half smirk and stepped inside, Lucifer following. There were guards standing in the hall in case anything untoward happened, and Ketch nodded to them before he led the way down the hall.

"He's just in here," Ketch explained and opened a door to the cellblock where they kept all their supernatural acquisitions.

He watched Lucifer closely out of the corner of his eye as he led the way down to the end and then punched in a code and opened the last door.

"Go on," he said, "Your son is waiting for you."

Lucifer stepped up to the door. "No one's in there—" he started, but Ketch had already pulled out the cattle prod he had been concealing inside his coat and shoved it against Lucifer's ribs. This one had been particularly designed to subdue angels; momentarily paralyzing their grace.

As Lucifer collapsed, Ketch kicked him fully into the cell and slammed the door shut, peeking into the window at the twitching body of the Devil.

He smirked to himself. Oh yes, this would be the perfect peace offering for his new boss.

* * *

 _Jack was dragged from his cell_ again and this time he barely struggled. What was the point? It would only cause them to hurt him and he still wouldn't accomplish anything with it. They always made sure his powers were locked down when they got close to him, and without them, they were stronger than he was. Especially when he was hungry and exhausted and in pain. Yes, maybe Jack was defeated, or well on his way to becoming so.

He was taken back down the hallway from the day before, and Jack felt himself sag even more. He didn't want to be forced to kill more creatures. It drained him more than anything, especially since they were all in the same position here; it wasn't like hunting with Sam and Dean.

However, they didn't put him in that room again, but another one beside it that was smaller and had a lot of machinery and a chair in the middle of it.

Jack was put into the chair and strapped down. The woman scientist, Dr. Mayfield came over to him and started sticking things attached to wires to his chest and head. He was confused, and nervous, wondering what this new torture would bring. He flinched slightly as a needle was inserted into the side of his neck and taped in place, the tubing attached to it led to one of the machines that hummed electronically on one side of the room.

"We're ready," Dr. Mayfield said and nodded to the others. "Let's start the test."

One of the other scientists went to the wall in front of Jack and pressed a button. The wall started to slide back, exposing bars that separated this room from another one; the room Jack had been fighting monsters in the day before.

Right now there was another vampire in there, and it snarled at the occupants in the other room, coming over to grip the bars in defiance.

Jack glanced over at Dr. Mayfield who was watching him expectantly before she took a remote in her hand, her thumb hovering over the button.

"You will use your powers to kill this vampire," she told Jack firmly and pressed the button. Jack instantly felt the hold on his powers lift, and he was about to try his best and blow out all the machinery, when one of the men pressed the cattle prod to his side.

"No funny business," he said. "You'll regret it."

Jack swallowed hard, but shook his head. "I won't just kill someone."

Dr. Mayfield's face hardened and she jerked her head to one of her underlings. "We don't have time for this. If the nephillim won't cooperate, we'll make it cooperate; go utilize plan b."

The man nodded and left the room. Jack waited, anxious to know what plan b was, when the door to the vampire's room was opened and a woman was shoved inside, falling onto her knees with a gasp. Jack started. She wasn't a monster at all, either. _She was just human_.

"What are you doing?" he asked frantically as the vampire turned toward the new arrival with interest. "That vampire will kill her!"

"Yes, it will," Dr. Mayfield said firmly. "Unless you kill it."

Jack tugged frantically at his manacles, and the man holding the cattle prod to him jabbed him with it warningly. The vampire stalked toward the woman who had pushed herself into a corner of the room, frightened pleading escaping her mouth. Jack may have braved another shock to get himself free of the chair, but he would still have to get into the other room to free the woman, and he knew he couldn't do that before Mayfield and the others took him down again, especially with that shock collar he was wearing. He only had one option, which was obviously their plan all along.

The vampire pulled the woman to her feet and shoved her against the wall, one fist in her hair as he wrenched her head to one side, exposing her neck. It snarled, obviously starving, it's fangs almost to the woman's neck, when Jack made his move.

He turned his palm as far as he could toward the vampire and forced his powers into play. The vampire was yanked away from the woman and Jack flicked his wrist, causing its neck to break. He could feel a burning in the side of his own neck, where the needle was jammed into his skin, and as soon as he released his hold on his powers, Dr. Mayfield pressed the button on her remote and they were once again suppressed.

Jack sagged back in his chair, panting, as he watched the woman staring in horror and a little relief at the dead vampire. Jack hated that he had done exactly what his captors wanted, but he couldn't have let the woman die either.

"Did we get enough data?" Dr. Mayfield asked one of her men who had been sitting and watching a computer the whole time.

He nodded. "Yes, I think we have enough to work with."

"Excellent," Mayfield said and went over to press the button that returned the wall to its original place, hiding the woman from Jack's sight. "Return the nephillim to its cell for now. We'll do the extraction later when we know exactly what we need."

Jack was unlocked from the chair and marched back to his cell. His whole body felt weak. A deep empty knot forming in his stomach from hunger and anxiety.

"Please, I'd like something to eat," he tried as they opened the door to his cell. "I'm half human…I need food."

One man snorted and shoved him forward into the tiny room. "There's nothing about you that's human. You'd do better to stop pretending otherwise."

Jack stumbled into his cell and the door was shut fast. He slumped into the corner and wrapped his arms around his knees again. Still cold, still hungry, bruised and battered from the monster fighting, and feeling horrible in every other way.

He truly dreaded what they would have him do next.

* * *

 _Lucifer seethed at first_ after Ketch had put him in the cell—tricked him. He shouldn't have been surprised, but truthfully, he'd expected to be able to take the little weasel down. Unfortunately, with his powers still low, even after eating that cupid, he wasn't exactly on his game.

After he'd discovered the cell was firmly warded, he had simply sat down against the back wall—they couldn't even spring for a cot in his dump—and waited. Someone eventually would come to see him, and when they did he would have an easy escape.

But as he sat day-dreaming of what he would do to those responsible for locking him up, he felt something close by. An energy being used, something…powerful. Something that felt maybe a little bit familiar.

Lucifer climbed to his feet and strode to the door, peeking out the tiny barred window. There he was, he could feel him now. A grin spread over Lucifer's face as his eyes glowed red.

"Hello, son," he murmured.

* * *

 _Dean hated waiting._ He freaking _hated_ it. Especially when someone he cared about was in danger and all he had was a smarmy dick calling the shots.

Conway hadn't bothered to call Ketch again, saying that the more they did, the more suspicious he would be. Dean knew he was right, but still, Conway was the captive here, and Dean didn't appreciate his input.

So here they were waiting through the night in the crappy apartment, Conway still tied to the chair, the remains of their dinner on the table, and Dean, Sam and Cas all standing around, nothing they could do to speed up the process, waiting for Ketch to text the time and place to them.

"This is ridiculous," Cas growled, having turned to pacing the room in agitation. "I can at least search his mind, see if he knows anything."

"Cas, it won't do any good," Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. He had already tried to find anything relating to the men of letters and another location, but after several hours of computer work he had given up as well. They hadn't been able to find anything before and they wouldn't now.

"That's right, I told you I didn't know anything. That I'd never been to that damn place!" Conway growled, yanking on the bindings before slumping back with a grunt. "Look, at least let me take a leak. I've been sitting here for hours."

"Ooh, I feel so bad for you," Dean grumbled, glowering at the man.

Conway just glowered back. "It's either you let me up for a few minutes or you get me a bottle or something." He glanced around at them. "And I don't think any of us want one of you to help me."

Dean groaned, but stood up. "Fine. Three minutes, that's it."

He pulled out his knife and slashed through the duct tape, then yanked Conway to his feet and shoved him over to the small bathroom. Conway staggered inside and shut the door. Dean was about to protest, but gave up, turning back to Sam and Cas.

"What if Ketch doesn't text after all?" Sam asked. "Then we're right back at square one."

"Not necessarily," Cas offered darkly. "We can force Conway to do what we want."

Sam and Dean shared a glance, before the younger man turned to the angel. "Cas, look, we all want Jack back but you have to calm down. How do you think Jack would feel if he knew we got him back by torturing a bunch of people? I mean that—"

"That's pretty much what his dad does," Dean cut in and instantly regretted it when Cas turned to him with a glower.

"You think I want to be like Lucifer?" he demanded. "As if you two haven't tortured people before?" He shot a look at Dean in particular.

Dean instantly felt his stomach knot, and his mouth went dry. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "That's not fair, man."

The heat went out of Cas' eyes then and his gaze turned apologetic. "No, it wasn't, I'm sorry, Dean." He turned to glance out the window, folding his arms over his chest. "I just wish I could do something right, for once. I thought Jack, having him here, raising him, would give me a second chance at things. But I've messed that up too."

"Come on, Cas, you know that's not all on you," Dean shook his head. "I mean, you were _dead_ , man, that's not really your fault."

"And you did your best, we all did," Sam added gently. "And when we get Jack back, we'll continue doing that. That's all we can ever do."

"I know, you're right." Cas sighed.

Dean heard the toilet flush and the water running in the bathroom, but several seconds later Conway still had appeared and the water hadn't shut off. He frowned, and marched over to the door, knocking on it before he wrenched it open.

No Conway. Just an open window.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean spat, dashing over to it and looking out. "Sam, Cas!"

"What happened?" Cas demanded as they hurried to the door.

"He flew the coop," Dean snarled, instinctively pulling his gun from his belt.

Cas was already out the door and Dean took the chance to climb out the window to the fire escape, glancing around to see if he could spot their escapee. But Conway was nowhere to be seen.

The flash of headlights caught his eye and he looked over to see the black van tearing out of the parking lot. Cas came to a stop below him, and glanced up at Dean with a longsuffering look.

"Dammit," Dean growled and climbed back through the window where Sam met him.

"It's not your fault, Dean," he tried, but Dean pushed past him.

"Should have checked the window," Dean snarled. "Shouldn't have let him out of the chair to begin with."

Cas came back into the room a few seconds later and slammed the door.

"Now what?" he demanded. "We lost our one lead to where Jack is."

"Actually, we didn't," Sam said, and crossed to the table, picking up a phone and holding it up to show them. "We still have his phone, we'll still get the time and place of the meeting."

"Unless Ketch decides to call instead, or Conway snitches to him," Dean added.

Sam shrugged, but just then the phone lit up with a text alert. Sam turned it around to show his brother. "You were saying?"

Dean grabbed the phone and read the text. "Got him. Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay everyone, let's get Jack out of this place!**

Chapter Five

Jack had managed to doze off, exhausted from everything he had endured the past few days. He also felt chilled, and his body ached. The cold surroundings and his lack of clothing didn't help that at all but there wasn't anything he could do but press himself into as tiny of a ball as possible, trying to conserve his own body heat.

He was startled awake as the door to his cell opened and the men came in to drag him to his feet as usual. He was almost relieved when he wasn't taken to the room were he had been forced to kill the monsters again, but his relief soon fizzled out once he was back in the experimentation room and brought over to the metal table.

He tried to pull out of the men's grip as he saw Dr. Mayfield preparing some kind of needles and her assistants prepping a strange looking machine, but of course it didn't do any good.

"Please, why are you doing this?" he pleaded.

As always, he was ignored, and the men hefted him bodily up onto the table where he was instantly strapped down. He pulled at the bindings, still hoping that they might give, but he felt even weaker now than he had before and lay back in defeat, closing his eyes.

"What's on the agenda today, Doctor?" one of the men asked.

Dr. Mayfield turned to her assistants. "The readings we collected from the nephillim yesterday when we recorded it using its powers were ground-breaking. With this information, we hope to be able to create perfect monster-hunting weapons for all our operatives in the field. In theory, they should be able to take down anything. Even angels and demons. However, in order to do this, we'll need to extract enough of the nephillim's grace to work with and hopefully eventually synthesize. After all, if we can't do that, our discovery will have been for nothing."

Jack's eyes flew open when they talked about extracting his grace. How could they even manage that?

He shifted on the table as the scientists prepared their machines again. "No, don't do this!" he pleaded.

One of the guards stepped forward and shoved a strip of cloth into his mouth, tying it tightly behind his head so Jack could no longer talk. He still struggled, but the assistants tightened several more straps over his body to keep him still; straps around his chest, hips, thighs and even one around his head. That was when Dr. Mayfield stepped forward and stuck things attached to wires all over his body again. He thought they might be connected to the computers because the screens showed different things and started beeping after she had placed them. Then she turned back for a needle and tubing and Jack's eyes widened, shuddering, but unable to move more than a few pitiful centimeters. Dr. Mayfield gripped his jaw, and pushed the needle deeply into the skin at his throat. Jack whimpered past the gag.

"Is everything set?" she asked her assistant at the computer.

"Yes, Doctor," he told her.

"Good," she replied and turned to one of the other scientists. "Turn the machine on."

The other woman flipped a switch and a mechanical whirring sounded as something lit up, and then all of a sudden Jack felt a horrific pain tearing through his body. He tensed, a scream bubbling up in his throat.

"It's working!" one of the assistants cried in excitement.

Jack glanced over to see what they were talking about and saw, to his horror, that the tube leading from his neck was now glowing brightly. And then he realized that it was pulling his grace from his body.

And it was agonizing.

Jack screamed again, eyes squeezed shut. He didn't want to see this anymore. He didn't want to be here. He just wanted to be home.

 _Castiel, please,_ he pleaded, wondering if the angel would hear his prayer or if prayers could even get out of this place with all the warding. _Anyone, please help._

But as the pain continued, he didn't even have the capacity to think anymore, and simply succumbed to the pure fiery agony that consumed him.

* * *

 _Castiel and the Winchesters_ arrived at Ketch's meeting spot just as the sun was coming up. Dean parked the Impala a couple blocks away to make sure Ketch wouldn't see the distinctive car.

Dean tucked his gun and a couple knives into his jacket as they got out and Castiel touched his angel blade reassuringly. He didn't want to take any chances with Ketch, especially since he seemed to have the ability to come back to life.

"Let's go," Dean said and led the way.

The Englishman was already there, his back to them.

"It's about time, I was…" he turned and caught sight of them, his expression turning from annoyed to almost longsuffering. "Oh, bloody hell. You three."

"That's right," Dean said, his Colt pistol in his hand, cocked and ready.

Ketch eyed it, but without much interest. "I take it you likely shot my operative then?"

"No. He ran before we had the chance," Castiel said, his own angel blade sliding into his hand. "We're not going to make the same mistake with you."

"How are you even alive?" Sam demanded. "Our mom shot you in the head, point blank. We dumped your body."

Ketch smirked. "Now that is a funny question coming from you two. But there are other, easier ways to make a failsafe for accidental death."

"We don't care," Dean cut in. "Frankly, I'm looking forward to getting the chance to kill you again. Slower this time."

"But first, you'll tell us where you took Jack," Sam said firmly.

Ketch raised his eyebrows innocently. "Who?"

"The nephillim," Dean snapped. "We know you took him, we have footage of you kidnapping him off the street so don't bother pretending you don't know what we're talking about."

Ketch gave a longsuffering sigh. "Of course. I should have known you three would have adopted the child of Lucifer into your fold of misfits." He rolled his eyes. "Touching, but not exactly healthy."

"Where is he?" Castiel demanded, having had enough of this. He stepped forward menacingly. "Where did you take him?"

"Fine," Ketch said, holding his hands up. "Turns out you didn't kill all of the Men of Letters, there were still a couple research outposts you missed. One of which is where I took your nephillim."

"Why? I thought you'd be done with them after everything that happened?" Dean asked.

"I don't work for them anymore, I freelance for anyone who needs my services," Ketch said then shrugged. "I need money. So I've been bounty hunting. Can you really blame me?"

"That's beside the point," Sam said. "Tell us where Jack is now."

"I gave him to a friend of mine. Karen Mayfield. She's in the scientific division of our R&D department. Her specialty is making unusual weapons for us to hunt monsters with. It's her you have to thank for that handy exorcism contraption you used to get the devil out of the president."

"What does she want with Jack?" Castiel demanded, a knot forming in his stomach at the thought.

"What doesn't she want?" Ketch replied. "The Letters haven't had a nephillim at their disposal for, well, decades. And one as powerful as your boy? Never. She's come up with some groundbreaking discoveries since she's had him. I believe she's trying to put together a weapon that can kill anything under the sun. Your boy has some very special powers and they're going to prove very helpful."

Sam looked sick, shaking his head. "How can you even condone this? I mean, I know you're one sick son of a bitch, but, Jack is just an innocent kid. He's even half human!"

"Oh, I know," Ketch said. "He did seem rather naïve. I got him to come with me easily enough when I told him you two were in danger." Castiel saw Dean squeeze his eyes shut, his jaw tense. "Probably wouldn't have even had to use force at all. That was just for fun."

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled.

"One of the guards told me he cries himself to sleep every night in his cell," Ketch added. "Calls out for you in his nightmares. Prays to the angel to come save him."

Castiel shot forward and grabbed Ketch by the front of his suit, shaking him. " _Where is he?"_ he demanded.

Ketch had the gall to chuckle, glancing at Dean. "My, your attack dog is rather attached to the nephillim, isn't he? Are you sure the boy isn't his?"

"Answer the damn question before I shoot a foot," Dean growled, leveling his gun downward toward Ketch's expensive leather shoes.

"Fine, fine," Ketch said, holding his hands up. "Write this down." He turned to Sam and gave the coordinates. Sam instantly plugged them into his phone and found the location on the map.

"Got it," he said, then looked at Ketch. "What do we do with him?"

"You could let me—" Ketch began before Castiel simply punched him in the face. The Brit collapsed to the ground, out cold.

Dean crouched and pulled a pair of cuffs from his coat, snapping them around Ketch's wrists. "That works. Let's load him up. We're not taking the chance of leaving him free."

Dean went to get the car, and Castiel glanced at the map Sam had pulled up.

"It's not far, only a couple hours from here," Sam told him.

" _If_ he's telling the truth," Castiel said.

"Let's hope he is."

The Impala pulled up and Castiel and Sam picked Ketch up between them.

"Want him in the trunk?" Sam called to Dean.

"With all those weapons back there, hell no," Dean replied. "Just stick him in the back where we can keep an eye on him."

"Don't worry, he's not going to try anything," Castiel said as he shoved Ketch into the back seat and then slid in after him, his blade held ready across his knees. Sam hurried around the car to get in the passenger seat and then Dean put the car in drive and they were out on the road.

Castiel glowered at Ketch as Sam gave Dean directions. The man better hope he had told the truth, or there would be hell to pay.

 _We're coming, Jack,_ Castiel said through angel radio. He knew Jack probably couldn't hear, especially if he was being kept in a warded place, but it still made him feel better to say it.

His hand tightened on the hilt of his angel blade. Ketch wasn't the only one going to pay when they finally found Jack.

* * *

 _Jack was in so much pain_ , his mind wasn't thinking straight. At least, he was sure it wasn't. He could hear screaming as if from far away. He knew he was screaming too, or he had been, but this wasn't just him. There were also crashing sounds, and suddenly he could hear the scientists around him shouting in panic.

He pried his eyes open, wondering what was going on. He could see his grace collected in three of the ten or so bottles from the machine he was attached to, and more was being pulled out of him. He wondered how much more he had to give.

But no one seemed to be looking at that anymore. They were all facing the door on one side of the room, which suddenly flew open to admit a man, who walked slowly inside.

Except Jack could tell he wasn't really a man and a chill filled him that had nothing to do with his loss of grace.

The man strode forward as the two guards rushed him, raising strange weapons, but the man didn't even stop. Just reached out and grabbed them both by the necks, snapping them instantly. The two guards collapsed, and the man walked over to the other scientists, who cowered around their machines. The assistant at the computer tried to run, but the man simply slammed a hand straight through his chest, and the assistant collapsed with a gurgle.

The other assistant had her throat torn straight out of her neck. That only left Dr. Mayfield and Jack watched in horror as she lifted the cattle prod toward the strange man but he simply batted it from her hands. She staggered back.

"Please, don't…" she tried to plead, but the man just laughed. His eyes flashed red, and he jumped toward her, his hand around her throat before he shoved his other fist right into her chest and tore out her heart. It beat once and the man inhaled as he watched it, seeming pleased. Mayfield collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood.

That was when the man turned to Jack and Jack didn't think he had ever been so scared in his whole life.

The man was completely covered in blood, his clothes and skin soaked in it, but he was smiling.

"Hello, son."

* * *

 _Jack couldn't process._ This man, this man covered in blood, was his _father._ His real father. _Lucifer._

He couldn't say anything. For one, he was still in agony, for another, he was horrified, terrified, and filled with a thousand emotions he didn't even want to think about. He also had a gag in his mouth so he couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to.

Lucifer seemed to sigh and he turned toward the machine that was currently sucking Jack's grace away, and flipped a switch. Jack gasped as the extreme agony stopped and just left him with a horrible burning inside, and weakness that left him practically unable to move.

Lucifer reached a bloody hand out, and Jack wanted to flinch away but he was still strapped down. Lucifer tugged the gag from his mouth. It had been so tight it had chafed the sides of Jack's mouth and he swallowed hard, his mouth dry from both fear and dehydration.

"Well, aren't you going to thank me for saving you?" Lucifer asked.

"No," Jack muttered, his voice trembling. "No, no, no. Not you."

Lucifer frowned. "Well, that's no way to talk to your father. Come on, son, I came to get you out of here."

"Y-you, killed them. All of them…" Jack's eyes flitted around the room again at all the dead scientists. Yes, they might have tortured him and who knew how many countless others, but they were human and Lucifer had _slaughtered_ them.

Lucifer looked exasperated. "Of course I did. I did it for you, son. I mean, look what they did to you! They couldn't just get away with that."

Jack started breathing heavily, the smell of the blood covering Lucifer was making him sick to his stomach. He couldn't process anything realistically right now. All he could concentrate on were his frayed nerve endings, his grace spasming from the shock of half of it being torn out of him.

Speaking of his grace, Lucifer was eyeing the glowing bottles set into the machine. The look in his eyes was almost…. _hungry._ Jack shuddered.

Jack watched in silent horror as Lucifer reached out and plucked the three small vials from the machine that were filled with his grace.

"Hey, son, I hate to ask you this, but…would you mind if I borrowed a little of your mojo? Tank's a little low after that fight."

Jack was too horrified to even say anything.

That was when there was a thump from further in the facility. Jack's breath caught in his throat. Lucifer's head snapped around and he smiled before turning back to Jack.

"Looks like I didn't get everyone. I'll be back soon, son, and then I will get you out of here." He patted Jack on the chest and left a smear of blood over his skin. Jack shuddered and let out a whimper but was almost relieved when Lucifer left the room.

He tried to struggle free but he was simply too weak and the metal manacles only cut into his wrists and ankles. He sank back against the table with defeat.

He didn't exactly feel like Lucifer coming to get him was a rescue.

* * *

 _Dean pulled to a halt_ in front of the Men of Letters facility with a screech of tires. He glanced around, probably to see if there were guards, and turned to Sam and Castiel

"Ready?"

Castiel was already sliding out of the car, his angel blade in his hand. "Ready," he said firmly.

Sam and Dean grabbed their own weapons, and Dean reached in to make sure Ketch's handcuffs were still attached to the car door. The Brit was still unconscious so thankfully they wouldn't have to deal with him. Castiel thought they could probably just dump him here before they left and be done with him.

They cautiously approached the facility. Sam frowned as he saw the high-tech coded entrance but Dean just growled and shot several bullets into the mechanism. It sparked and started to smoke, but the door opened.

They stepped inside the facility, expecting to see guards already rushing to the scene, but there was no one. Castiel felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick. Something was wrong here. But yet…he could feel Jack now. Even though his own powers were slightly suppressed in this place due to heavy warding. But he could tell the boy was in significant pain. It made him sick to his stomach.

"He's here," Castiel told the brothers.

Sam gave a small sigh of relief, but still looked around for any of the Men of Letters to come meet them.

"Well that's good, but where is everyone?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah, something's not right," Dean muttered to himself.

They traveled further down a corridor and then turned the corner.

Three bodies lay dead on the ground. And not just dead, ripped apart, blood everywhere.

"Oh god," Sam choked out, pressing a hand to his mouth.

"Looks like someone got here first," Dean said as he bent to inspect one of the dead men, a sick look on his face. "Dude, someone literally ripped the heart from this guy's chest."

"And not long ago," Sam added. "Blood's still fresh."

Castiel felt another prickle on the back of his neck. He shook his head. "We need to find Jack."

"Go," Dean told him. "Sam and I will investigate further this way. Holler if you need us."

Castiel hesitated only slightly, hating to leave his friends in a situation that could possibly be dangerous, but he knew they could handle themselves so he took off to the room where he could feel Jack's essence emanating from, frightened by how weak the signature was.

He came across several other bodies on the way, and swallowed hard. A wary thought crossed his mind: _could Jack have done this?_ But he swiftly pushed that aside. No, he was sure Jack could never be responsible for this level of violence.

He got to a room at the end of a corridor and could feel Jack on the other side. He kicked in the door unceremoniously, and nearly tripped over a body in a white lab coat, lying in a puddle of blood. There were several more, two women and two men; one of the women had had her heart ripped out like that other body they had found.

But that was the last thing on his mind just then. Jack was there and Castiel felt instant relief as he settled his eyes on the boy, until he saw the position he was in. Jack lay on a stainless steel table, pale and rigid with pain. There were wounds littering his body, and tubes running from his neck and arms, connecting to a machine that seemed to be collecting vials of his essence. One vial had a tiny bit of his grace glowing in it. Suddenly, Castiel didn't feel so bad for the way these people had died.

"Jack," he said urgently, and rushed forward, tucking his angel blade away as he bent over the table, glancing between Jack and the machine he was attached to. Though there was the vial of his grace there, the machine seemed to be off and there were three vials missing. Castiel hurriedly set to work tearing the straps from around Jack. The manacles on his wrists and ankles were warded but he was able to find a key to unlock them.

All this time, Jack was shivering uncontrollably. Castiel was furious to see he was only dressed in his thin boxer shorts, and he looked all skin and bones. There was also a smear of blood on his chest in the shape of a handprint. Jack whimpered and his eyes fluttered.

"Jack," Castiel said again, plucking the tubes from the boy's body before gently cupping one side of his face and brushing his hair away with his other hand. "Jack, it's okay. It's Castiel. You're safe."

Jack's eyes fluttered again, but this time stayed open. "C-castiel?" he murmured.

Castiel smiled and smoothed his hair back again. "I'm here. I'm going to get you out."

Tears flowed from Jack's eyes and he instantly reached up to clutch Castiel's coat, pulling himself up until he pressed his face into the angel's shoulder. Castiel gently wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

"Shh," Castiel urged. "You're safe now. You're so cold," he added worriedly, feeling how cool to the touch Jack's skin was.

He pulled back and shrugged out of his coat and tucked it gently around Jack's mostly naked body before he simply slid his arms under the boy and picked him up, cradling him protectively. Right now he felt so truly fragile. Castiel worried that his wounds gave no sign of healing. What had they done to him?

He reached for the vial of grace and tucked it into his pocket before heading to the door. He needed to find Sam and Dean, they needed to get Jack home.

Suddenly Jack stiffened in his arms. "W-wait, Castiel," he said urgently. "He's here."

Castiel looked down at him with a furrowed brow. "Who's here, Jack?"

Jack's eyes were wide and scared. His hand clutched weakly into Castiel's shirt. "Lucifer," he whispered. "He's here."

Castiel's eyes went wide too. " _Lucifer?_ " he asked.

Jack nodded shakily. "He came for me. He killed them all…" he trailed off and clutched at Castiel's shirt more insistently. "Don't let him find me! I don't want to go with him."

"Don't worry, Jack, he's not going to—" Castiel tried to reassure the boy when the door opened only feet in front of him and he staggered back with his precious cargo. Dean stepped forward, with a pale and angry look on his face. His hands were held cautiously to his sides and he carried no weapons.

"Cas," he said grimly. "Don't try anything."

"Dean, what…?" Castiel began but then the door opened again and Castiel felt his heart seize in his chest.

Lucifer strode in. He was soaked in blood and was shoving Sam in front of him, an angel blade pressed to the young man's throat. Castiel saw now that both brothers looked a little beat up. He shouldn't have let them go off by themselves. But it wasn't like they'd expected _Lucifer_ to be in the building.

Castiel swiftly set Jack down, propping him against the wall and positioning himself in front of him so he could have his hands to fight.

"Let him go, Lucifer," Castiel growled.

Lucifer smiled and pressed his head against Sam's, forcing the blade more firmly against his throat as the younger Winchester shuddered. "Oh, I'm more than willing to bargain, Cas. But I'm going to want something in return." He glanced over at Jack.

Castiel bristled, his blade slipping into his hand. "No. You will never get this boy."

"Um, he's my _son_ ," Lucifer said as if Castiel had said something incredibly stupid. "I kinda think I have custody of him. Fruit of my loins and all."

"Gross," Dean muttered under his breath and shot a look of disgusted hatred at Lucifer.

"You don't even know him," Sam growled. "And look at him. Jack's terrified of you."

Lucifer shrugged. "I'm sure he'll warm up eventually. Won't you, son?"

Jack's only move was to clutch at Castiel's leg, putting himself even further behind the angel. Castiel raised an eyebrow at the fallen archangel.

"I think that's your answer, Lucifer," he said.

Lucifer almost chuckled but it was a dark sound. "Oh, that's rich. You, Heaven's biggest screw-up, _you're_ the one who thinks he has the right to raise my son? To steal him from me? What exactly has he told you about me, Jack? That I'm evil? That I'm a monster?"

"You killed all those people," Jack said.

"They were _torturing_ you!" Lucifer cried. "Okay fine, counter offer. I'm done being nice." He flicked out a hand and Dean crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach with a cry of pain. Castiel's grip on his blade tightened but he didn't try to go to his friend. He knew there wasn't anything he could do. Besides, Jack had tightened his grip on his leg.

"Stop it, Lucifer," Castiel growled.

"Oh, that's right, Sammy is probably feeling a little neglected." He took the blade from Sam's throat and the younger Winchesters suddenly went flying across the room, pinned to the wall. Lucifer flicked his wrist again and Sam's body slammed hard against the floor, before Lucifer flicked his wrist again and sent the hunter flying toward the machinery in the room. Sam crashed into it and lay still in a crumbled pile of computers and wiring.

"Stop!" Jack cried. "Stop hurting them!"

Lucifer just chuckled. Dean was staggering to his feet, angel blade in his hand.

"I thought you were low on mojo," the elder Winchester grunted.

"Was low," Lucifer rolled his shoulders. "Had a little pick me up, courtesy of my son."

Castiel suddenly remembered three missing vials on the machine when he had taken the vial of Jack's grace. He felt sick.

"You mean you cannibalized your own son?" he demanded. "Stole his grace?"

"Please, Castiel," Lucifer sneered. "Like you haven't done the same."

Dean rushed him, blade raised, but Lucifer caught him by the throat, and lifted him off his feet. Dean choked, blade slipping from his grip as he clutched at Lucifer's hand, trying to get him to release him.

"What'll it be, Cas?" Lucifer asked calmly as if he wasn't currently choking Dean to death. "Your boy toys here, or my son?"

Castiel gritted his teeth, furious at having to watch Dean suffer. Lucifer gripped harder, effectively crushing Dean's windpipe. The hunter's hands slid to his sides as his eyes rolled up in his head.

"Stop!" Jack cried, sliding up the wall to stand. "I'll go with you, but only if you stop hurting them!"

"Jack, no," Castiel snapped, pressing him back to make sure he didn't run to Lucifer.

Lucifer smirked and dropped Dean who crumpled to the ground, completely still. "It's a deal, kid."

A shot rang out and Lucifer staggered, clutching his shoulder. "Ow!" He cried.

Castiel glanced up in shock to see Arthur Ketch standing in the doorway of the room, holding a strange gun and looking at it with admiration. "Well, this is quite the achievement. They really were onto something."

"You…" Lucifer snarled at him, but Ketch shot him again, this time in the leg and the archangel collapsed. The Brit stepped forward and swiftly clamped manacles around his wrists and stabbed something into Lucifer's neck causing the archangel to go completely limp.

Sam staggered out of the pile of machinery. "What the hell was that?"

"Thank R&D, and my ability to get out of cuffs," Ketch told him. "Looks like I saved you."

Castiel hurried over to Dean and knelt beside him, pressing his fingers to his throat to push a little healing into him, repairing the damage Lucifer had caused. Dean's eyes finally shot open and he gasped, choking on his own breath. Sam staggered over to help him stand and all three of them watched as Ketch, efficiently picked Lucifer up in a fireman's carry.

"I believe this makes us even," he said.

"What are you going to do with him?" Sam asked, nodding to Lucifer.

"Don't worry, Sam, he's not going to bother anyone for a long time. You can keep the nephillim. You're welcome." Then he disappeared out the door.

"Bastard," Dean muttered, rubbing his throat.

Castiel hurried back toward Jack, Sam on his heels and Dean close behind.

"I'm sorry," Jack was saying. "I'm sorry he hurt you."

"Jack, you are not responsible for your father's actions," Sam told him gently.

"He's not my father," Jack said firmly, and slumped against Castiel as the angel went to help him up.

Sam smiled and reached out almost hesitantly before Jack held his own arms out and fell against Sam's chest. Sam hugged him gently and Dean settled a fond hand on the boy's back.

"I'm so glad to see you," Jack said. "I'm sorry I ran away, I'm so sorry…"

"Shh," Sam hushed him. "It doesn't matter. You're coming home now."

"Yeah. We're glad to have you back, kid," Dean told him fondly.

Jack slumped with relief and almost collapsed between the three men, but Castiel simply stepped forward and picked him up again.

"Let's get the hell out of this place," Dean said firmly.

Castiel agreed whole-heartedly. It was time Jack came back home.

* * *

 **One more chapter after this with all the H/c :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**And here we are at the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who has read and followed this fic :) Friday, I will be posting a fluffy one shot for everyone!**

 **Now enjoy the TLC Jack deserves here:**

Chapter Six

Once they got back to the Impala, Dean dug through their bags in the trunk and pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt for Jack. Sam and Cas helped him into that while Dean located a blanket and grabbed a bottle of water and the first aid kit.

Jack huddled on the back seat, legs curled up in the fetal position. He looked pretty bad, gaunt and half-starved. Cas had given him what little of his grace had been in that vial, but it hadn't seemed to do much if anything for Jack's condition. Dean bit his lip, almost sorry Lucifer had taken out the whole compound. He would have liked to take a few shots himself. Sure, at first he too might have been wary of Jack, but after getting to know the kid, the idea that anyone could do this to him seriously pissed him off. And then Lucifer had gone and stolen half his grace to power himself up too. And he thought he was worthy of being Jack's father.

No, Dean had seen the way Jack had latched onto Cas when the angel had rescued him, had stood against the devil to protect him, and even now Jack wouldn't let Cas go. Cas seemed unwilling even now to leave the boy's side, allowing Jack to prop his head against his lap in the backseat. If anyone had the right to be the kid's dad, then it was Cas.

"Hey," Dean said, handing the first aid kit to Sam. "He need this?"

"I'll heal his injuries," Cas assured them. "Those are superficial. It's the fact that half his grace has been torn out that's hurting him."

Dean swallowed hard.

"Will he…recover?" Sam asked cautiously, taking the blanket from Dean and tucking it firmly around Jack's shuddering frame.

"Eventually," Cas told them bitterly. "But he's in shock right now."

"Well, let's keep him warm and try to get him hydrated," Dean told Cas, handing him the bottle. "Doesn't look like they fed him."

"I don't think they saw the need," Cas spat. Jack whimpered and the angel hushed him, gently stroking a hand through his hair before he cracked open the bottle and pressed it to Jack's lips, trying to get him to drink.

Dean shook his head angrily. "Then let's get him home. It's only a few hours' drive."

Sam and Dean retreated to the front seat and Dean gunned the Impala off the compound and back onto the highway.

At least they had the kid back now, but who knew what kind of lasting damage he might have suffered?

* * *

 _Arthur Ketch dragged_ his very compliant captive through the halls of the old asylum. The guards standing at the door of the throne room looked shocked and instantly moved aside to let him pass. Ketch smiled to himself and strode inside, pulling his captive along with him.

"Mr. Ketch, a pleasure to see you again," said the figure wearing the white suit, sitting on the throne.

"My lord, as you see, I come bearing gifts," Ketch unceremoniously dropped Lucifer to the ground. The fallen archangel grunted, unable to get further than his hands and knees with the manacles Ketch had secured him with.

Asmodeus was already getting off the throne. "My my, what do we have here? Is that Lucifer himself?"

The archangel actually looked frightened which only made Ketch happier. The Prince of Hell turned to him. "You did well this time, Mr. Ketch. Perhaps next you'll be able to find the nephillim."

"I will make it my first priority, my lord," Ketch told him smoothly, and bowed before he left Lucifer to the mercy of the Prince of Hell.

* * *

 _Castiel watched Jack anxiously_ all the way back to the bunker. Though he mostly slept it was obviously not a restful sleep. Castiel pressed a palm to his forehead to see if he could determine the cause of his distress, and found that his skin was warm to the touch. He had been so cold when Castiel found him, but now he seemed to be running a fever instead. Castiel worriedly monitored his rising temperature, and slowly healed the rest of his physical injuries since his own grace didn't seem to be responding. It was still there, Castiel had checked, but it seemed to have retreated deep inside Jack as if to preserve itself. He tried to ease the fever, however, he seemed unable to.

Sam glanced over the seat worriedly. "How's he doing?" he asked.

"I think he's running a fever," Castiel told him. "I don't know if it's purely from the shock or if one of his wounds got infected. Either way, he needs a bed."

"We only got another thirty minutes left," Dean told him, even then pressing his foot into the gas more firmly.

Jack hadn't changed by the time they got back to the bunker and Sam and Dean hurried to get his room ready and grab what they might need as Castiel carried him inside, still wrapped in the blanket. He settled Jack down gently into his bed, and the boy looked so small and lost. Especially with his gaunt cheekbones that were accentuated by two splotches of fever and dark circles under his eyes.

Sam brought in a bowl and some wet towels and folded one to place over Jack's forehead. He stirred a little at this but settled soon after, seeming too exhausted to do anything.

Dean was giving Jack a cursory examination before tucking him into the bed more securely. "He's really dehydrated. We need to get some fluids into him."

Sam glanced over his shoulder. "I think we have some saline and an IV drip in the infirmary. That's really our only option with him being unconscious."

"I got it," Dean said and left the room. Castiel was using one of the other rags to cool Jack's face and neck. Sam pulled a chair over from the desk for him to sit in.

"He'll be okay," Sam assured him. "He just needs some rest. He's been through a lot."

Castiel was silent for a long moment, watching Jack's eyes flicker behind his eyelids as if he were having nightmares. "It's my fault this happened. I should have insisted he take more time to learn about his powers before he went hunting. I should have been the teacher I was supposed to be."

"Cas, this is on both of us," Sam assured him with a sigh, sitting down on the side of the bed. "We both failed him. But we can do better this time around."

"If he ever wants to use his powers or leave the bunker again," Castiel muttered. He remembered how he felt after being hit with that attack dog spell. The thought of hurting people, of being unable to control himself had terrified him so much that he hadn't been able to leave the bunker for several weeks. He certainly didn't want Jack to feel like that, but he wouldn't exactly blame him if he did.

Dean came back in then with the IV supplies, and Sam helped him set it up. Dean pulled one of Jack's arms from under the blanket and inserted the needle into the crook of his elbow. Jack whimpered and shifted slightly, but Castiel took his other hand and held it tight, reaching out with his grace to calm Jack down. Once the drip was in place, Castiel turned to the Winchesters.

"There's nothing more we can do for him until he wakes up. You might as well rest."

Sam pressed his lips together but didn't argue. "We'll spell each other. Let us know if you need anything, okay?"

Castiel nodded, turning back to Jack. Dean clapped a companionable hand onto his shoulder on his way out the door, and Castiel was suddenly glad he hadn't had to do this alone. Jack may not be well, but they had gotten him back, and they would nurse him back to health too.

And no matter what happened next, they at least had each other.

* * *

 _Jack was in darkness. He tried to fight his way upright, but he couldn't even tell which way was up, and his arms and legs wouldn't move. He couldn't move at all._

 _He could hear people talking, feel hands on him, and wished they would stop touching him because his whole body ached. He felt cold, but he also felt like he was burning up inside._

 _"Stop, please stop," he pleaded, attempting to struggle again._

 _"Shh," someone hushed him and he felt something at his throat. Jack was finally able to pry his eyes open and he balked as he saw Lucifer standing over him with a slow smile. Blood dripped from him, as his eyes glowed red, and as his lips spread in the garish smile, he revealed teeth that came to a point like a vampire's. He held an angel blade pressed to Jack's throat._

 _"My son," Lucifer said right before he slashed the blade across Jack's throat._

 _Jack gurgled, his grace pouring out of the wound as Lucifer bent to dig his teeth into Jack's throat._

 _Jack screamed, feeling his powers, his essence, being pulled from his body, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even fight back._

 _Tears slid down his face. He had never felt so alone._

* * *

 _Jack gasped and flailed,_ eyes flying open. Hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back and that made him struggle more, crying out and kicking weakly at his assailant.

"Stop, let me go!" he pleaded.

"Jack, Jack, it's Sam, you're safe, just calm down. It was a dream."

Jack shuddered, eyes wide as he glanced around at his surroundings. His room in the bunker. The warm light and sparse furniture, the familiar smell of old books and underground with a hint of coffee and whisky. And then finally Sam leaning over him with concern in his eyes, his large hands pressed gently into his shoulders.

"Sam," Jack breathed and instantly wrapped his arms around the man's neck, burying his face in his shoulder, trembling with relief.

Sam's arms went around him, one hand moving up and down his back soothingly before he pushed Jack away a little.

"Easy, it's okay," Sam told him with a small smile.

Jack sniffed, reaching up to rub the sudden wetness from his eyes and felt a pinch in his arm. He looked down and felt his stomach hit his feet as he saw a needle forced into his skin with a tube attached to it. He instantly reached to rip it out, but Sam stopped him.

"Jack, hey, hey, it's okay, just leave it," Sam told him, pulling his hand away gently but firmly.

"B-but…" Jack stuttered, terror crashing over him at the memory of what those scientists had done to him.

"It's just to keep you hydrated," Sam assured him. "It's only saline solution. It seems like they didn't bother giving you much to eat or drink while you were there."

Jack wrapped his arms over his stomach as he huddled against the pillows. "No. They didn't give me anything to eat at all."

Sam's expression turned pained and he reached out to squeeze Jack's forearm gently. "Well, we'll get you fed soon. How about I get you something to drink? And Cas and Dean will want to know you're awake."

Jack nodded. Castiel—he wanted to see him badly. He remembered the angel protecting him from Lucifer. Just like he had protected him before he was born. He felt a sudden relief just knowing that Castiel was okay, that Lucifer hadn't killed him again.

"I'll be right back," Sam promised and left the room.

Jack waited, and it wasn't long before footsteps hurried down the hallway and the door Sam had left cracked swung open, revealing the dark-haired figure in the trench coat.

"Jack," Castiel said, relief obvious in his voice as he rushed over to the bed.

"Castiel," Jack said, his voice breaking into a sob halfway through as he collapsed against the angel, his guardian, and felt instant relief as Castiel's arms wrapped around him. He could feel the angel's grace reaching out to stroke his own. Jack's grace felt weak, wounded, like it had been ripped apart and shoved back into him. He shuddered as he remembered the agonizing sensation of that machine that took it from him, and then his dream when Lucifer had drunk it from his own neck like a vampire.

"How do you feel?" Castiel asked, one hand finding Jack's forehead. "You've been fevered for two days, it only broke early this morning."

"I feel…wrung out," Jack said hesitantly, not really sure how he felt. It was both a physical sensation and something that ran much deeper.

Castiel inhaled deeply. "It will take a while for your grace to fully regenerate. The trauma you suffered sent your body and grace both into shock."

"It hurt," Jack whispered, curling into himself again at the memory of the pain.

"I know," Castiel said softly, before he gently pushed Jack back, propping him against the headboard and brushing his hair back from his face. "Jack, I'm sorry for what your father did to you…"

"He's not my father," Jack cut in, shaking his head. "Family doesn't do that to each other."

"No, they don't," Castiel said firmly.

Sam and Dean came into the room then, Dean carrying a tray with a steaming bowl on it.

"Hey, kid, glad to see you up," Dean said as he approached the bed and set the tray down on the side table. "I made you some soup; thought it will be easy on your stomach since you haven't eaten for a while."

Jack's stomach gurgled, somewhere between nausea and hunger. Sam handed him a bottle of colored drink after twisting the cap off.

"Gatorade will help with the dehydration," Sam told him.

Jack took a cautious sip, and wrinkled his nose. It tasted both fruity and salty, and kind of disgusting, but Jack drank it anyway because his mouth had been so dry and when the wetness touched his tongue his thirst had reawakened with a vengeance.

"Whoa, go easy, kid," Dean told him, gently taking the bottle away. "Don't drink it all at once, it'll make you sick. You can have some more in a minute. Why don't you try some of the soup?"

Castiel settled the tray into Jack's lap and Jack took a careful spoonful of the soup, blowing on it cautiously. It wasn't hot enough to burn, just warm enough to feel pleasant on his throat. He took several more bites, feeling it warm him from the inside out.

"This is good," he said sincerely. "Thank you."

Sam smiled. "It's tomato rice soup. Our mom used to make it for Dean when he was sick and Dean made it for me."

The mention of their mother caused Jack to put his spoon down, swallowing hard. Castiel watched him cautiously.

"What's wrong, Jack?" he asked.

Jack turned his eyes up to Sam and Dean. "I tried to find out how to open the rift to get your mom back," he said. "I didn't…I thought if I could come back with her, I could prove that I could use my powers for good."

"Oh, Jack," Castiel sighed, setting a hand on his knee.

Sam came around the bed and sat on the other side. "Jack, we'll find our mom together. You don't have to do it alone. Maybe you can't even do it now. That might have been a one-time thing. Either way, this isn't something any of us should do alone."

"And I know your powers can be used for more than just violence, Jack," Dean said firmly, surprising the nephillim.

"You do?" he asked cautiously.

"Sure," Dean shrugged. "Look, I'm sure you could have busted out of there, killed all those SOBs if you had really put your mind to it, but you didn't."

"But they forced me to kill," Jack said. "Vampires and werewolves…"

"And did those vamps and things attack you first?" Dean asked.

Jack bit him lip but nodded. "Yes, but…"

"But nothing," Dean shook his head. "There's no shame in defending yourself or the people you care about. Sam, Cas and I, we have to kill monsters all the time to protect people. It's not a glamorous job, and sometimes it's damn hard, but we do it because we have to, because no one else is gonna do it. Besides," he added, glancing toward Sam with a look that Jack was sure had deeper meaning. "I should know that just because someone is powerful, and potentially dangerous, doesn't mean they're gonna turn out bad."

Sam met his brother's eyes with a small smile of gratitude before he turned back to Jack. "You're not Lucifer, Jack. Trust me. I know Lucifer, and I don't see any of him in you."

"He's right, Jack," Castiel added. "I do see a lot of your mother though, and she was a good, strong, and kind woman."

"She believed in you, kid," Dean told him. "She believed that your powers could be used for good."

"You just have to learn how to use them, like any weapon," Sam told him with a smile.

Jack looked at the three men surrounding him, and for the first time since he had run away, he felt at peace, even with himself. Sam was right, if he learned how to better use his powers, then he wouldn't have cause to fear them anymore. He had to remind himself that he was in control.

Most importantly, he had a family that cared for him, and he realized now he had been a fool ever to leave them.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice tight from the lump that had formed unbidden in his throat. "Thank you for coming for me."

"We'll always come for you, Jack," Castiel said sincerely, clasping his hand firmly in his as Sam and Dean nodded in agreement.

Jack smiled then as warmth finally began to swell in him. Something stopped hurting in his chest for the first time in weeks, and he was finally sure that this is exactly where he belonged.


End file.
